Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Your Voice

author's note:

Not written to anyone in particular...

...written to any artist who's ever caused me say, "Damn, I wish I could do that."


When you were a girl
your sweet instrument
poured forth butterflies
and bubbles

but apparently
a piccolo can also
work as a shovel:

as you continued to sing
you began to delve--
with each song
with each note
just a little deeper

driven by a higher instinct at first
then slowly awakening to the reality
of something buried below--
something with the echo of gold--

something that always seems
just within reach

yet remains just out of reach:

this drive gives you pain
then heals the wound
as you release secrets
you didn't know you knew--

secrets I also release
as I hear your voice--
gold I also mine
as I awaken to your song

as I awaken to pain
as I awaken to wounds
I continue the healing:

I listen to myself

by listening to you...

© 2014, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: poems of meditation

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